Oddities
by Cavanna
Summary: We all know the routine. Faye and Spike argue. Faye insults Julia. Spike explodes and hits Faye. But what if he reacts differently? SxF threepart complete
1. You Cry

I hate that name. Julia.

It's so wholesome and spotless. But that's bullshit. Anything, everything becomes dirty during some point in life. It's nothing more than a front, a mask... A mask to hide the angelic demon beneath the surface; the demon that plagues his dreams and haunts his nightmares.

I hate that bitch. Julia.

I don't even know her and I hate her. But **he** knows her. He loves her; she is his weakness. Just the utterance of her _holy_ name is enough to cripple his brain and crush his heart.

He used to sleepwalk. He did it a lot so it was no big thing to me, though I **was** the only one who knew about it. _He_ didn't even know about it. He never did or said anything weird, though. He would just get up and walk around. And it was my job to steer him back to his room.

But there was this one time, this one episode that happened about three months ago.

* * *

I was tired, but I couldn't sleep. Insomnia, I guess. They say insomnia is brought on by stress. But I had nothing to be stressed about. So what the fuck did they know? Absolutely nothing. At least, nothing about me.

I had snuck out of my room, peeking down both directions of the long corridor before tip-toeing quickly towards the living room/kitchen. I felt like a leopard or some sort of sneaky, mysterious animal. I gripped the bottom of my oversized T-shirt as I took a quick look around, pulling it tight over my ass so that my light pink panties weren't showing.

With a quiet, gleeful cry, I skipped over to the refrigerator and opened the door. I felt my eyes begin to water as they gredily took in the large assortment of food we had. Whispering a quiet prayer and a small thanks to Jet, I snatched up two pudding cups and closed the refrigerator. I danced over to the sink and began on my first pudding cup.

I was well into my second when I felt something brush against my backside. Surprised, I yelped and spun around, dropping my spoon in the process.

"Spike?!" I shrieked when I saw the shirtless man standing in front of me. "Shit, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"

My heart was pounding excessively due to the dosage of adrenaline that had just been pumped through my veins, so I placed a hand over it to calm myself. I closed my eyes and sighed in relief. It wasn't a monster.

"What are you doing up? You're usually out like a damn log," I asked jokingly, placing a hand on my hip. But he gave me no answer, he just stood there with this blank expression on his face.

"Spike?" I said, waving a hand in front of his face. Still no answer.

Confused, I leaned into his unreadable face and peered into his eyes. That's when I realized he was sleeping. But it was odd; he usually sleep-walked with his eyes closed. This time, they were wide open, yet glazed over as if he were in the deepest of thoughts.

"I knew you wouldn't come," he mumbled suddenly. Startled, I jumped back and bumped into the sink.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, though I knew he was in a dream state.

"I knew you wouldn't come," he restated quietly, "but I hoped you would." My eyebrows furrowed together. Who was he talking to?

"Angel..." he whispered, taking a small step towards me. Already backed into the sink, I had no escape route so I remained still, every fiber of my body screaming with tension.

"Why didn't you want me, Angel?" he asked, his eyes softening solemnly. Although I knew it was a dream, I tried again to speak to him.

"Spike? Who are you talking to? Who is Angel?" I whispered. He swallowed hard and his shoulders sagged slightly.

"Julia..." he whispered as if answering my question. It was barely audible, but I heard it, and something in my chest clenched tightly at the sound of it.

"Spike..." I whispered, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He jumped at my touch and I quickly withdrew my hand, but he caught my wrist and gently placed my palm to his warm cheek. He closed the space between us and slid his arms around my waist, drawing me tightly against his body.

"I wish you knew... I wish you knew how much I love you, what I would do for you, Julia," he whispered as he nuzzled his face into my palm lovingly. I sighed deeply.

He was saying all of the things I ever wanted to hear from him, but to the wrong person. Ignoring the shivers running down my spine from the contact, I reluctantly slid my hand from his face. I clasped both of his shoulders and shook him gently, trying to rouse him from his slumber. I know people say that if you wake a sleep-walking person, they could hurt you as well as themselves, but he was hurting while he was sleeping anyway. I had to try something.

"Spike. I'm not her. Wake up, Spike," I told him gingerly as I shook him. Then, something small, something clear fell from his eye and rolled down his cheek. I gasped when I saw the lone tear, halting my shaking. My breath caught in my chest as I was struck with a wave of shock. He was crying.

"Please..." he sobbed dryly, "please don't do this to me. I love you, Angel... Julia." I was speechless. There was absolutely nothing I could say at that moment.

Just then, his knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground, clutching his sides as sob after sob quaked his body. I was on the floor in a millisecond, my arms surrounding his shaking form as I whispered soothingly into his ear. His head dropped onto my chest as his arms came to encircle me once again, his fingers clutching at the back of my T-shirt desperately.

"It's okay, Spike. It's alright..." I cooed as I battled the tears that strained to get past my own eyelids. I shut them tightly, burying my face in his neck as he continued to cry. We stayed like that for a good fifteen minutes, both of us crying against each other. Him, for the love he lost. Me, for the love that was never mine.

Then suddenly, he froze. His hold on me loosened and he pulled away slowly, his russet eyes hazed in confusion. He blinked at me and I knew he was awake. My gut did summersaults.

"Faye...?" said his trembling voice. He looked around slowly before his eyes landed on me once more.

"What am I doing in the kitchen?" he asked me suspiciously. I shrugged. A dry, impersonal laugh escaped me, and I began feeling self-conscious.

"You... you were sleep-walking," I explained quietly. His eyebrows furrowed together.

"Sl... sleep-walking...?" he said. I nodded slowly. I could see his brain processing what I had told him as his eyes rolled down to see our position. I fidgeted uncomfortably, I was really embarrassed about the whole situation. It became eerily quiet and suddenly I felt like pushing away from him and footing it. But no, that would have been selfish of me. So I sat and allowed him a few moments to gather his wits.

"Was I... was I crying?" he asked me. I swallowed, hoping he wouldn't punch me out for saying yes. I took a chance and nodded quickly.

"What did I say?" he asked me slowly, cautiously.

"You said... You were talking about... Julia," I answered hesitantly. I saw his jaw clench instinctively as his eyes searched my own for signs of truth.

As if I would lie to him about _her_.

He narrowed his eyes, drawing a bit closer to me. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt his thumb gently stroke my face. Then he looked down at his hand, rolling the moisture from my face between his fingertips. He looked up at me.

"You were crying, too. Why...?" he asked me curiously. I opened my mouth, but no answer came out. My jaw bobbed soundlessly a few times, giving the effect a dying fish would. Finally, my brain began functioning properly.

"You were hurting. You cried... for her. She hurt you, Spike," I told him sadly. His eyes narrowed, and I thought he was angry with me so I pulled out of his loose grasp, holding my hands up defensively and shaking my head.

"I won't tell anyone, I swear. I haven't told anyone yet, in fact. I mean, I haven't told that you've been sleep-walking. I'm the only one who knows. And I won't tell anyone about _this_ whole thing, either. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just wanted---"

My nervous ranting was interrupted when Spike caught me in his arms once more. I gasped, surprised by the action. I sat still for a moment before I realized he was **_hugging_** me, and not attacking me. Then I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing one of my hands on the back of his head to stroke his hair. It was surprisingly soft for how matted and knotty it looked.

I felt him tremble against me and I knew he was crying again. So I did the only thing I could:

I cried, too.

* * *

AN: Allo, allo! What 'ave we 'ere?

Sorry. I'm really bad with accents.

- ahem -

So, did you like the beginning of me story? Don't worry-- this was only the first chapter. The squabble between Faye and Spike is in the next chapter. Yes, I've decided to try my crippled hand at writing some Cowboy Bebop.

In case you guys haven't been to my bio page, this is Furi Iki. I write Yu-Yu Hakusho fics. But all of that is explained on my bio, too. Go look at both my pages!

I love you guys. You guys rock. Now, go. Review.

Please.


	2. I Laugh

It was odd as all hell. Bizarre, I tell ya'.

Okay, so after the whole "crying" incident, I walked him back to his room. He turned to me with this sad smile on his face and nodded. He didn't have to say anything for me to know he was thanking me. I smiled a small smile and watched as he turned his back, opened his door, and closed himself in his room. And I didn't have to be able to hear through the metal walls to know that he cried himself to sleep that night.

But you know what the odd thing really was? The next day, he acted like not a damn thing had happened. He was still the same cold bastard as before.

* * *

"Damn, Jet! Don't you ever send that...that **thing** in my room to wake me up again!" Faye shouted as she ambled down the stairs and into the living room rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Ein trotted past her feet then, yipping his reply as he caused her to stumble and nearly knocked her on her ass. Jet, who was in the kitchen at the table, looked over his newspaper and smirked. 

"Hell, I didn't think he'd actually do it..." he chuckled before he resumed his reading. Faye shot the scampering imp a heated glare then resumed her walk to the kitchen table. She pulled out a chair and plopped down. She yawned uncouthly and reached a hand up to scratch the mess that was her hair. Her eyes focused on the table for but a moment and she froze mid-yawn.

"Yes, it's eggs. And bacon, and toast," said Jet without even having to look up from his paper. "I've already had my share so just go ahead and eat." He flicked his wrist and flipped his papers down to see that she had already begun to stuff down her food. He shook his head.

"Looks like a lady, sounds like a lady, smells like a lady, but sure as hell don't act like one..." he grumbled under his breath.

"So where's the brat?" she asked before she stuffed a whole piece of toast in her mouth. Jet shrugged.

"Haven't seen her since I woke up. She went off babblin' some shit about explorin'..." he mumbled. Faye swallowed, a large lump passing down her throat.

"And Puff-Ass?" she asked. He shook his head, opting not to ask about her choice of name for Spike.

"Still sleep," he answered her. Faye snorted, leaning over the table to stick her fork into his eggs.

"You snooze, you lose," she said as she stabbed a bit of scrambled egg.

"Don't you even think about it, Cow," Spike snapped as he stumbled into the kitchen much like she had earlier. He dropped down into the chair opposite her and she quickly retracted her hand to stuff her fork into her mouth.

"I wasn't doin' nothin'," she laughed, knowing there was no way she hadn't been caught. He glared evilly at her before picking up his set of chopsticks. For a moment, she felt guilty. The poor guy had had a rough night. She decided to be nice to him that morning.

"...Sorry," she said with a sheepish look. Jet's paper dropped then, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. Spike scoffed, still looking at his plate as he ate.

"For what? Being a bitch? I forgave you for that the day I met you," he quipped. Faye pursed her lips as her eyebrow twitched. Here she was apologizing maturely and he was acting like a damn juvenile. Maybe he was just still sour...

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she took a deep breath and tried again.

"No, for stealing your eggs. It wasn't... considerate of me..." she said, trying to tell him what she meant with her eyes instead of saying it out loud. He looked up at her for a brief moment before stabbing a piece of bacon and stuffing it into his mouth.

"You're never considerate. You're always stealing from me. Why should I expect any less?" he asked her coldly. Jet had folded his paper in his lap by now, his interest highly peaked. Faye bit her bottom lip, an angry flush painting her face as she squeezed her fork and imagined plunging it into the side of his neck.

"Alright, turd head, I'm **trying** to be nice here..." she warned through gritted teeth. Her eyes narrowed evilly as he looked up at her pointedly and shoved some eggs into his mouth.

"Well, I didn't _ask_ you to be nice, did I, wench...?" he said, putting extra emphasis into his last word.

"Okay, what the fuck is goin' on here?" Jet asked suddenly. He knew something had happened between them, something bad. He just wasn't sure what. Ignoring him, Faye stood up and slammed her fork down on the table.

"Listen, you little shit. Personally, I don't give a good fuck's worth of worry as to why you're angry with me. I haven't done anything to you. I'm just trying to be civil," she told him. Spike laughed, it coming out like a deep, sharp bark rather than amusement.

"You, civil? Don't make me piss myself with laughter," he told her. She smirked then, something foul boiling in her head.

"Wouldn't be surprising. God only knows what else you probably do in your sleep..." she said tauntingly. Almost immediately after the words left her mouth, Faye wished she hadn't said them. She knew it was a low blow, but he was getting her angry. Something fierce passed through his eyes and his mocking smirk tightened to a thin line. Faye felt her gut quake remorsefully, but it was too late to take back what she had said. So she grinned instead, putting on a front of ridicule.

"You're a damn slut, Faye..." Spike mumbled angrily. Faye shrugged.

"So be it. Better than bein' a crybaby," she replied.

**_Fuck!!_** she thought, mentally slapping her forehead.

She just couldn't seem to keep her mouth shut.

"Okay, now I **demand** to know what's going on!" said Jet. Once again, he was ignored as the two glared daggers at each other.

"Go to hell, bitch," Spike growled.

"You first, mobster," she coerced.

"Ah, fuck it to hell... I'm goin' to my bonsai room. You nuts had better not come in _there_ botherin' me..." grumbled Jet as he rose from his seat and left the kitchen.

"Dammit!" Faye suddenly shouted, slamming her hand down on the table, "I don't feel like arguing with you, Spike! I'm leaving!" She snatched up her plate and stomped out, only to have him scramble out of his and run after her.

"Oh, no you don't! I'm still fuckin' yellin' at you!" he shouted.

"What are you, my father? I don't fucking think so, so FUCK OFF!!" she turned and shouted in his face before resuming her brisk walking.

Mumbling something incoherent, Spike reached out and gripped her arm, snatching her back around to face him. Faye retaliated immediately, thrusting her other arm forward to throw her plate in his face. But Spike was too quick, ducking as her arm swung over his head. The plate was propelled through the air and crashed into the metal wall, splintering into uncountable pieces and leaving smudges of her breakfast in its wake. They both turned to look at the wall, then at each other.

"Don't you ever put your hands on me, you psycho!" she hollered, her face flushing with even more anger. If the situation hadn't been so heavy, Spike would have laughed in her face. She looked like a cartoon thermometer about to pop.

"I'm fed up with your shit, Faye! You're nothing but a damn leech! All you do is suck, suck suck-- and I don't mean just money, you whore!" he hollered back leaning over so that he towered over her.

"I look damn good for my age, you son of a bitch! You go and find an eighty year old who still has teeth to suck, suck, suck! And I'll bet you **_still_** wouldn't get any!" she retorted.

"You know what? One of these days, your age is gonna' catch up to you, Faye. And when that happens, your skin is gonna' drop from your bones, your face will shrivel, and your organs'll turn to mush. You'll shrink to the old, decrepit **hag** you are on the inside!" he shouted.

* * *

I gasped in horror at what he had just said. I was shocked, absolutely shocked. Sure, Spike and I fought a lot, but we always avoided the sensitive spots. You know, his Julia, my past. We skimmed over the spots sometimes, but we never got anymore deeper than that. But he had to hit below the belt. 

My face twisted into an ugly scowl as fresh anger burned in every crevice of my brain.

* * *

"Yeah, Spike? Well however decrepit I may look, I still won't look half as bad as Julia while she's rotting in her FUCKING GRAVE!!" Faye said, rising on her toes so that he'd get the full brunt of her loud comment. Then she shoved him. 

"I'm so damn tired of hearing about your goddamn fallen angel, Spike! Fuck her! Fuck her! FUCK JULIA!!!" she said. She shoved him again. He stumbled back this time, a surprised look on his face. She sidestepped and shoved him once more so that he hit his back against the wall.

"You always call me a slut, but do you have any proof? Do you know any men that I've slept with? Where is your evidence? You know what I think? I think Julia's the slut! She slept with you **_and_** Vicious, you nearly died for it, and she acted like she didn't even care! Angel? Pfft! _She_ was a slut! She--" she said waving her hand in his face.

Suddenly she stopped, noticing how close she was to him and his facial expression. His eyes were closed to narrow slits, and what little she could see looked pinkish-red. His nostrils flared wildly as he breathed, his lips parted as heavy puffs escaped his mouth and brushed across her face. She was in trouble.

"Maybe I should go to... my... room..." she said as she took a step backwards.

But quick as lightening, Spike's hand shot out and caught her wrist, halting her retreat. Faye swallowed, her eyes widening to saucers as he stepped forward. He leaned in and instantly Faye's hand flew up to shield her face... and she waited for the pain to come...

...and waited...

...and waited...

... and waited.

Faye cracked an eye open to peer cautiously at Spike and her other eye sprang open as her hand dropped to her side. Tears streamed down his face like rivers, his face was blushing red, and he was biting his bottom lip. He looked like he was ready to explode. Faye cocked her head to the side curiously, her midnight strands swaying like a curtain.

"What're you--"she began, but she was cut off when Spike's forehead thudded onto her shoulder. She winced, thinking he was trying to hit her. His chest began to shake against hers and she bit her lip as her eyes began to well up with tears. This was just too familiar. She hated to see him hurt, especially if she was the one who caused it. She brought her other arm up to wrap it around his shoulders.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Spike. That was very dirty of me. I don't know what--" she was interrupted once again when Spike's body jerked back from her grasp. He threw his head back as tears flowed down his face and his loud voice filled the corridor.

He was **_laughing_**.

Faye sniffled, her eyebrows drawing together tautly as she watched his guffawing form shake hysterically. She frowned, realizing she was about to cry for a laughing fool.

"You jerk! I thought you were crying again!" she hollered as she stumped her foot.

She growled and her arms shot out to shove him hard into the wall again, but he was still holding onto her wrist and she stumbled as he dragged her with him. She hit his chest face first and almost instantly, she felt her face heat up. Again she tried to dislodge herself from him only to have him yank her back. She glared up at him. He had sobered up a little by then and he raised his wrist to wipe his face off as soft chuckles came from his lips.

"What the hell are you laughing at?! We were arguing as I can remember!!" she shouted at him. He stopped laughing then, and placed both arms around her waist to pull her nearer. He leaned in close, brushing the bridge of her nose with his own. His eyes sparked mischievously and his bright smile fell to a grin.

"Shut up, Faye..." he said breathily. He exhaled and the warm air trickled across her lips. Faye opened her mouth and inhaled sharply, unconsciously trying to draw in as much of him as she could. This hadn't escaped Spike's keen eye, and he chuckled a bit at the reflex.

Faye licked her lips slowly as her jade eyes roamed his face observantly. Spike followed the movement unblinkingly, moaning low in his throat. The sound caught Faye off guard and she jumped before a wide smile slid on her face.

"God, you're gorgeous..." Spike mumbled quietly. He tugged at her waist a bit and Faye titled her face upward.

"You're an angel," he whispered. Faye's body instantly froze up in his arms. She blinked rapidly as her brain processed his sentence.

"What... did you just call me?" she asked him.

"Angel..." he responded, still too coiled in his own lustful spell to realize she was offended. Faye ripped out of his arms, her scowl boiling with disgust. Spike blinked out of his daze and looked at her curiously.

"I don't think so, Spike. I'm not a substitute," she sneered. Spike screwed his face up in confusion.

"Faye, what the hell are you talking about?" he asked her. Faye took another step back, shaking her head slowly.

"I won't be used to replace her," she said. Spike took a step forward.

"Faye, please, tell me what the hell is going on!" he pleaded.

"You called _her_ Angel, Spike! You called her Angel while you were sleep walking! I'm not Julia! I never will be!" she hollered before she shook her head and stormed off towards her room. She was closing her door when a foot jutted itself into her doorway and jammed the door.

"Shit, Faye! You won't even give me a chance!" he shouted into the doorway. Faye pushed at the door. If he ended up without a couple of toes, it wouldn't be her fault.

"Why should I?! I'm not some damn stand-in! You'll always be thinking of her while you're kissing me!" she shouted back.

"Damnet, would you just fucking listen to me! Let me in!" he snapped. Faye sighed and slid from the door. She walked away from it and threw herself on top of her bed with a groan. Spike pushed the door open and walked in casually, strolling across the room to plop down beside her on her bed.

"Now, what the hell are you tripping about?" he asked her calmly. She turned her face and buried it deep into her pillow.

"Iffto fernaph finnapha pitaffinor bfftfinna," she said. Spike leaned over her lazily prone form.

"I can't understand you," he told her. Faye inhaled deeply, then exhaled in a groan before she flipped over on her back and blew her bangs out of her face.

"I'll never be what you want... you and I both know I can't compare to your first love and I'm no Angel..." she said wearily.

"How do you know what I want?" he replied. Faye sat up and looked at him, tiredness evident in her eyes.

"I'm a slut. Remember?" Faye said. Spike cringed visibly. He hated himself for saying that to her. He sighed and looked down at his lap.

"I didn't mean it," he said quietly.

"Then why did you say it?" she asked him, her voice cracking at the end of her question. Spike looked at up her again and reached for her hand, a crooked grin on his face.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to hurt you. I was taking out what Julia did to me on the wrong person. I was mad at her, not you," said Spike.

"But I'm not her, Spike!" Faye said, snatching her hand away and standing in front of him. Spike stood as well and ran his hand through his thick hair, a stern look on his face.

"I **know** that, Faye! Would you let me speak?! I'm trying to fucking apologize here!" he shouted. Faye swallowed, folding her arms across her chest.

"Listen, I said I'm sorry. What the hell else do you want from me?! I can't fucking take back what I said and I already feel like fucking shit for it, so either drop it or kick me out!" he said. Faye frowned.

"Way to fucking apologize!" she yelled. Spike sighed and held his hands up defensively.

"You-- you're right. I apologize... again. Look, I don't want to fight with you anymore," he said. Faye's face softened. She stepped up to him and took his hand, which caused him to look down at her in surprise. She didn't want to argue anymore, either.

"Spike?" Faye said. He nodded, telling her he was listening.

"Yes?" he said attentively. She raised a hand to scratch the back of her head uncomfortably.

"Do you really think...?" she started.

"Do I think what?" he asked coaxingly.

"Do you really think that stuff is gonna' happen to me? You know, with my age?" she asked him. Spike shook his head slowly and pulled her up against him again. He lowered his face to kiss the corner of her mouth gently. He moved to place one in the juncture of her jaw bone and neck. His tongue slithered from his mouth to graze a warm trail down to her exposed collarbone where he began to suck at her skin. Faye shuddered under his sultry touch and he bit back a masculine-flared grin. She closed her eyes as she felt one of his hands slither down her waist to her hips and around to her rounded ass. He gripped it softly and moaned quietly, causing a shiver to travel down her spine and to her legs.

"I hope not. It'd be a waste of a great ass..." he whispered against her skin.

It couldn't be helped. Faye exploded with laughter. She slumped against his chest and he reared his head back to look down at her. She was laughing so hard it made him smile.

"You're... such... a... fucking... pervert!" she managed to say between laughs. He turned several shades of red before he too began to laugh. Pretty soon, they were lying on the floor together; legs entangled and clutching at each other as they fought for air. At that moment, Jet walked past the room. Without stopping, he looked in, snorted, then shook his head.

"I don't even want to know anymore... fucking morons..." he mumbled as he continued down the hall.

* * *

_**AN:**_ Wow, that was weird, eh? Sorry this chap came out so oddly. But itIS titled "Oddities", is it not? 

I don't know what the hell came over me. LOTSA cursing, huh? Yeah, I like curse words.

Anyway, fret not, dear readers! This isn't the end! I wouldn't end a S/F without a kiss! Unless it was an odd one-shot. Yep, gotta' have the kiss. I don't want you guys to feel cheated.


	3. And In Conclusion

See? Odd, right? But, believe it or not, it got even odder (is that even a word...?) as it went along. It had been a few weeks since the whole thing, and it had died down to the point where we could be around each other and not feel awkward. His sleep-walking had stopped, thus, so had our conversation. We were back to the same old routine. Yes, odd was the word for it.

Okay, okay, fuck _odd_. It was getting downright retarded. Of course, _anything_ involving Spike has to be. Especially when he's drunk.

* * *

"Are you kidding me! Absolutely NOT, Jet!" Faye shouted through her door. Jet sighed irritably, placing his metallic hand on his hip and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his other. 

"For Christ's sake, Faye! It's only for the night! I'll be back in the morning," he said with as much calm as he could muster. He heard her hop off her bed before her feet padded quickly towards the door.

"Well where are you going that I can't go with you? And why can't we leave the brat and her little shit here with him!" she screeched. Jet growled low in his throat; Faye was very irritating.

"Because the brat and the shit are coming with me. I'm going to see an old friend of mine about a lead on our latest bounty," he said, his hand moving to rub his temple. He heard her twist a couple of locks before the door was snatched open to reveal a very peeved Faye.

"I don't want to play baby-sitter to a drunk ass Spike! He'll be all the more annoying! You know how we get along while he's sober!" she exclaimed. Jet's frown deepened.

"Faye... do you **really** think it'd be a good idea to leave an intoxicated Spike home with _Edward_...?" he asked her. Faye looked thoughtful for a moment, then devious as she began to snicker.

"Oh, I don't know, it could be fun--" she began. Jet held up a hand to interrupt her. He knew where this was going.

"NO, absolutely not. It wouldn't be funny, you ass," he said to her. "You're watching him and that's final." With that, he spun and went on his way to the hangar. Faye, of course, was on his heels in a flash, her pretty little face scrunched into an annoyed scowl as her feet pattered behind him.

"How do you know I don't already have something planned tonight? How do you know I don't want to go out?" she asked angrily. Jet shrugged.

"We can't always get what we want. For instance, I want to slap you right now, but I can't do that, now can I?" he asked her smartly. Faye snorted.

"You can if you want to lose your other arm..." she muttered.

"I heard that, too," Jet said nonchalantly. Faye sighed.

"But Jet--!"

"You heard what I said."

"Aw, Jet, c'mon! You know I--"

"I don't want to hear it."

"**Jet**!" She hollered, stopping to stomp her foot childishly. Jet stopped a few paces in front of her but didn't turn around.

"Faye, it's fifteen million," he sighed. He was hoping to keep that little fact to himself, seeing as Faye just happened to be the money-hungry chick she was. It was quiet for a few moments then he sighed and began walking again.

"You just make sure I get my fair cut of that..." he heard her mumble as he continued down the hall.

* * *

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck..." 

Faye swore to herself as she entered the living room. Spike, who was sitting on the floor with his head rested on the couch and his legs spread in front of him, was peering into an empty vodka bottle. She made her way around the filthy old couch to stand beside him and stare him down.

"This is just pitiful. Even for you," she sneered. Spike sighed, dropping the thick bottle to let it roll across the floor.

"There's no more..." he mumbled forlornly. Faye snickered, fisting her hips as she peered down at his crumpled form.

"Where are your shoes?" she laughed as she reached a foot out to kick at his leg playfully. He sighed again, rolling his half-lidded eyes to gaze up at her. Then he looked down at his feet, wiggling his toes underneath his navy blue socks.

"Dunno..." he answered with a shrug. Faye cocked her head to the side, her silky hair swaying like a violet curtain.

"What did you do with them?" she asked him. This time he glared at her, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"I said: I... don't... know," he repeated slowly. Faye beamed down at him, clearly amused by his tone of voice.

"Well, aren't we the moody one?" she teased as she plopped down beside him. She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Ok, let's get this straight. You're drunk, and I don't want to be here, so let's just--"

"I'm not drunk..." Spike interrupted. Faye looked over at him.

"Yes. You are," she told him. He scoffed, folding his arms on his chest.

"No. I'm not," he told her.

He opened his mouth to say something else when his face suddenly lit up as a thought struck him. He twisted around and lifted up a couch cushion just enough to fit his hand underneath. His hand made contact with something solid and he quickly snatched it up. He then dropped the cushion and upon turning around, Faye was able to see it was another bottle of vodka. She shook her head as he twisted open the cap and took a swig from it. Then he turned to look at her again.

"As I was saying, I think I know when I've had enough to drink, thank you," he told her smartly.

"Obviously, you don't, Lunkhead," she said. He spared her a quick glance before he tilted his head back and proceeded to guzzle the contents of his bottle. He relinquished the bottle and sighed, leaning his head back to rest it on the couch once more.

"You don't want to start calling names, Valentine. I've got a shitload for you," he muttered. Faye rolled her eyes.

"Oh no, let's not have _that_ conversation again..." she said. He looked at her out the corner of his eye, a smirk on his lips.

"Why are you here, anyway? I don't need your company," he told her. Faye returned his smirk with one of her own as she leaned over a bit.

"On the contrary, my good man," she said, snatching the new bottle from his hand, "you do need my company, according to Jet." Spike closed his eyes and ran his fingers through sweaty curls.

"Ah, that explains it..." he mumbled. Faye took a swig from the bottle as well, her eyes tearing as the liquid burned a hot trail down her throat. She whistled and shook her head, setting the bottle on the table.

"Not that I don't _enjoy_ your company," she rasped, "it's just that, under certain circumstances, you can be quite the asshole." His brow furrowed as he sat up to peer at her again. Drunkeness often leads to memory loss.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" he asked her. Faye stared at him for a moment before she shook her head, deciding not to argue with him while he was in his drunken stupor.

"Never mind, Spike. How many bottles have you had to drink, anyway?" she asked instead.

He looked up at the ceiling as if thinking, his lips moving silently. Then he lifted his hand and looked down at it to count on his fingers, his brow furrowed in concentration. He squinted, bringing it closer to his face. After a moment he dropped his hand and looked over at his comrade, a crooked grin on his face as he shrugged.

"My fingers won't stop splitting up so I can't really figure it out," he laughed. Faye smacked her lips, shaking her head in dismay.

"My lord..." she whispered. Spike began to pat himself down, in search for cigarettes, no doubt.

"Yes, Faye," he sighed, "I am your lord." He chuckled as he found his pack, smacking it twice in the palm of his hand then plucking a stick out.

"Shut up," Faye snapped, snatching his cigarette out of his hand. Spike tried to swat her hand way, but to no avail due to the fact his senses were in a haze. By the time he had moved his hand out of her reach, the cigarette was already between her lips. He looked up at his empty hand then glared back at her, letting his hand drop into his lap.

"Thief," he huffed, his eyes narrowed menacingly at her.

She shrugged, leaning over to dig into his jacket pocket. She frowned. His Zippo wasn't in it's usual pocket. She leaned even further over him, draping her body over his as she dug into his other pocket. She was so close, Spike went cross-eyed trying to focus on her. Soon, his brain began to pound. He placed his hands on the sides of his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"You're giving me a headache..." he groaned. Faye tossed her hair as she began to dig into his inside pocket.

"Suck it up. I need a light," she told him.

He scowled, an angry retort boiling in the back of his throat when he truly realized how close she was. Her soft, clean scent wafted past his nostrils, and he found himself leaning into her. She didn't notice, though, and she began to explore his pants pockets. Suddenly his hand shot out and caught her wrist, and Faye briefly wondered where he had mustered the speed. She turned her face to look at him and he grinned foxily, leaning closer to leer at her.

"Faye... if this was what you wanted... all you had to do is ask..." he whispered, his hot, liquored breath dusting across her face and down her neck. For one of the rare times since she'd met Spike, she was stunned to silence. She felt heat rolling around in her chest as her breath quickened. Then she felt a hand... sliding... up her thigh... to her ass.

She blinked once.

Twice.

Then she frowned as her sense came back. She snatched her wrist back and swatted his hand from her ass, gathering a fistful of his jacket with her other hand. Then she started to shake him. Hard.

"What the hell is your problem! Did I say you could touch my ass! Did I!" she hollered in his face. His grin only grew as she shouted, until he was finally laughing. The loud, gaudy noise filling the whole room. She stopped mid-shake, her face scrunched in confusion.

"What's so funny, you jerk?" she asked through gritted teeth as she yanked him close to her face. Spike stopped laughing, lifting a hand to languidly wipe a tear from his eye.

"Your boobs were bouncing," he chuckled mirthfully. Faye's face quickly drained of color before it flushed again, and she shoved him away from her. She picked her stolen cigarette off the ground before she rose to her feet and dusted her shorts off.

"Prick..." she muttered as she threw a glare in his direction. He only watched her in return, his mouth turned in a lopsided grin as he rested on his elbow in the position she had shoved him into. She studied his features, and nodded to herself as she decided he looked like a hobo.

"You need to take a bath. You look awful," she told him as she folded her arms across her chest. His grin widened.

"Thank you," he replied happily. She frowned.

"And you stink," she added.

It was a lie, of course. He had smelled wonderful when she was so close to him raiding his pockets for his lighter... so obviously masculine. His scent was strong, but not inconveniently so. It was so nice, in fact, that several times she had caught her thoughts drifting somewhere around nuzzling his neck... or licking his ear. Somewhere in that vicinity.

"So do you," he laughed. Faye rolled her eyes.

"You're just saying that. I just got out of the shower, thank you very much, shit-head," she said with a nod. Spike frowned.

"You couldn't have waited for me?" he huffed. Faye blinked. He looked sincerely upset. Then she laughed, turning to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Spike said as he sat up to quickly grab her wrist. She turned and looked at him, then down at his hand.

"To my room. I'm done with you for tonight," she said as she lifted an eyebrow. Spike frowned.

His grip tightened on her slender wrist and he tugged at her. She tugged back, confusion written on her face. Then he yanked, and she found herself stumbling over his feet and into his lap. He pried her knees apart and set one leg on either side of him, making her straddle his waist. Then he let go of her wrist to grip her bottom, pushing her closer to his chest. She gasped lightly, a sudden heat painting across her face. His eyes began to drift shut as he leaned forward to brush the tip of his nose down the column of her throat. He sighed contently, his hot breath fluttering down her T-shirt and between her breasts.

"Who said I was done with you?" he whispered so quietly she almost didn't hear him. Faye's mind went blank.

"Um... uh... who?" she said. He chuckled, the deep, throaty rumble reverberating from his chest to hers.

"You're so funny. And pretty, Faye. You're so pretty. Did you know that?" he sighed against her skin. She shivered, unable to respond to his words. Yep, he was drunk. If there was any doubt before, that statement clenched it for her. In all the time she'd known him, Spike had **never** told her she was... _pretty_.

He wasn't the type of drunk that would slur his words and babble over nonsense. He was the type of drunk that would tell you his dirty little secrets (but not the dirty big ones) without a second thought. He could keep up conversation, as long as his attention span would allow, anyway. As solemn as he was when sober, he was chatty and talkative when under the influence. He'd answer all of your questions truthfully, but wouldn't remember shit in the morning. For that part, she was grateful.

"I've never told you that, have I? That I think you're pretty... which you are," he said. She shook her head slowly, biting her bottom lip as his own crept slowly down her neck. He shrugged.

"Now you know," he mumbled against her collarbone. She gulped hard, her hands clenching the fabric of his dress shirt tightly. She had to do something. This was getting out of hand.

"Spike... let me go..." she pleaded weakly. She gave herself a mental slap. _Way to protest, Valentine._

"What... was... that?" he said between kisses. Faye inhaled sharply. When had he started doing _that_!

"I don't think... we should be doing this..." she muttered, her head lolling back unconsciously as he bit down softly on her skin. He licked her heated flesh then hummed some slow tune against it. He chuckled to himself as he pulled away from her, and Faye came back from her faze.

"You know what I think, Faye?" he asked her, cocking an eyebrow. Faye's mind was a jumble. She didn't know where this whole situation was going, or where it had come from, for that matter. It would be nice to have his opinion, although, it was pretty clear what he was feeling at the moment...

"What do you think, Spike?" she asked him hoarsely, her voice heavy with the heat she was feeling, the lust he had pushed out from within her with the softest and smallest of touches. He took her head in his two hands and moved her face to look at him, his face tight with seriousness. He didn't look so drunk then...

"I think you love me," he told her bluntly. Faye's lidded eyes snapped wide open suddenly, her heart thumping so fiercely in her chest she was afraid it would break a few ribs. She slid off of his lap to sit on the side of him, her legs still draping his own. She shook her head slowly, lifting her hands to grasp his own. She removed them from her face, her brows furrowed in question. _How did he know?_

"What...? What do you mean?" she asked him hesitantly.

Her mind was now on high alert; she was treading into unsolicited territory, somewhere she'd wanted to evade so she'd been avoiding him altogether. She knew she had been shedding away her skins, letting how she really felt for him show through to her exterior. Not on purpose, mind you. She cursed herself mentally. She should've let him sleep-walk his ass wherever the hell he was going the first time she saw him. But no, she had to play savior. And now she was stuck in this... mess.

She swallowed hard, trying to force the sound of her blood pumping through her veins from her ears.

"You don't know what you're saying," she said. She tried to laugh, but it came out dry, rough. Nothing was really funny. She was just uncomfortable.

"I do too know what I'm saying, Faye," he told her sternly, wringing his hands out of her grip to place them on her face once again, "And you know what else I think?" Faye swallowed, slaking her dry throat. She was almost afraid to ask.

"What do you think, Spike?" she asked him again, her voice wavering as her eyes began to water. Why was she crying? _Why was she crying!_

"I think I love you too... and I'm not afraid anymore. I don't want to run anymore," he said softly, shaking his head slowly. Faye blinked, her green eyes large and round and just... beautiful. She was always beautiful to him.

But what about her? What about his Angel, the woman who still plagues his life as well as his dreams?

"I don't love her, Faye. I don't want her anymore. She's not even here anymore!" he laughed as if he knew what she was thinking, knew her insecurities. "Do you believe me?"

Faye sighed. She hadn't a prayer in heaven in all of this. She didn't even have time to respond before he was pulling her face closer to his own, and his lips were pressed soundly to hers. He exhaled through his nostrils, the searing air causing her own breath to quicken. She raised a hand to run it through his lovely curls, finding them tepid and moist with sweat. But she didn't care. If she loved him, then she loved all of him.

And suddenly his tongue was moving forward, swooping in on her mouth to wreak all sorts of habit to her libido. It dipped past her lips, grazing her own velvety appendage and then retreating as his lips closed over hers. And then it was there again, delving into her cavern and making her weak in the joints. Her kissed her slowly, adoringly as if weaving the most passionate of spells...

And then the spell was broken when she felt a hand on her right breast. It squeezed once... then again before she felt Spike smile against her mouth as he chuckled. Talk about spoiling the mood. She had forgotten he was drunk. He was so damn goofy.

She pulled away from him, licking her lips as she looked at him. He was smiling deliriously, his hand sliding downward to rest on her waist. He looked so childishly happy.

She smirked, shaking her head slowly at his carefree demeanor.

"You won't remember this in the morning, you asshole," she muttered. He nodded, brushing his thumb across her cheek with his other hand.

"Yes I will. I promise," he whispered. She smile sadly.

"How do you know?" she laughed. He shrugged, his eyes closing slowly in a lazy blink.

"I'm sure I'll remember when I wake up and you're under my blankets ass-naked," he mumbled. Faye snorted. How presumptuous of him.

She stood up once again, reaching down to pick up her cigarette (which had fallen _again_...) and stuck it behind her ear. She reached out for his hand and he studied it for a moment before he took it. Then she hauled him up. He stumbled forward, bumping into her and she took his arm and draped it over her shoulder.

"Don't count on it," she told him as she scooped up the vodka bottle and started towards a long corridor, Spike in-tow. He sighed, leaning his head on top of her own.

"Why not?" he asked her forlornly. She smiled slowly, letting her hand drift down his back to squeeze his ass. He jumped in surprise, looking down at her with clear shock in his eyes.

"Hey!" he screeched. She looked up at him, mischief dancing in her evergreen irises.

"Because you'll be waking up in _my_ bed..." she purred. Spike grinned.

"Way to take advantage of me..." he teased. She laughed as she lead him to her room, the soft sounds bouncing off the walls of the dark hall.

* * *

"Faye, we're back! Wake the hell up! And where the fuck is---" Jet began to holler as he busted into her room. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the bounty hunter in question sit up abruptly, a hand covering his eyes. 

"Get the fuck out, Jet! The light's in my eyes!" he shouted. Beside him Faye moaned and rolled over, ducking her head underneath his arm to hide from the light as well.

"Yeah, get the fuck out..." she agreed wearily.

Jet gaped openly, slack-jawed and flush-faced. He shook his head quickly, hoping this was some kind of sick joke. Spike growled, grabbing a pillow and flinging it at him.

"Get out!" he hollered as it hit Jet square in the face. That woke Jet from his daze and he stepped back to slam the door shut.

"S-sorry!" he stuttered as he hurried back down the hall. As he neared the living room, he slowed his pace, a deep frown setting in his face. _Oh shit_, he thought. _They're gonna' be goin' at it like jackrabbits now... I'll never get any peace!_ He sighed, wiping his hand over his balding head.

"Something told me to leave the brat instead..."

* * *

AN: Yay! I'm done guys! I hope this was good. It only took me eight hours to write, so I feel like it's lacking... :shrugs: Oh well, it's done now. :D Nothing more I can do. Thank you to EVERYONE who reviewed, and I really mean that. I can't name everyone... I'm just lazy... But know this: I DO love you! 

Also, if there are any mispellings or errors in this, IT AIN'T MY FAULT! I ran this thing through edit about twenty times, but seems very faulty these days... The editing system is crazy. So don't be surprised if my AN is copied twice or if the sentences where there are s'posed to be two punctuation marks only have one and they look misplaced. (for instance, if it says, "why was she crying!" instead of "why is she crying question mark, exclamation point>")

Get it? I hope so.

And a belated apology to the readers out there. I KNOW it's taken a long time for me to update this, and for that, I am truly an asshole. No excuse. Just laziness. So, in the future I'll strive to update MUCH sooner.

Hugs for everyone!


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